


Cold Season

by WynterSky



Series: Cruel World [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:10:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WynterSky/pseuds/WynterSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasori receives a visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Season

The mountain cave that Sasori used as a headquarters when not meeting with the Akatsuki was as disturbing as ever, Orochimaru noted as he stepped out of the tunnel into the main cavern. His shorter partner had made the entrance tunnel uncomfortably small, but then Sasori never thought about anyone else’s comfort. Still, it was a considerable improvement from outside, as it wasn’t snowing in there. Orochimaru hated winter in the north; forsaking the more temperate climate was one of the few regrets he had on leaving Konoha.

 

“What are you doing here?” Sasori demanded, setting down a small screwdriver and something Orochimaru preferred to leave unidentified as he pushed his chair back from one of the workbenches and stood up. “Does Leader-sama have a mission for us?”

 

“Nothing like that,” Orochimaru replied, looking around for a chair that was both moderately comfortable-looking and not bloodstained. “I just wanted somewhere to read this where it wasn’t snowing,” he said, gesturing with the scroll he held, “and you were the closest acquaintance I could think of.”

 

Sasori frowned. “More of your quest for ‘immortality’, I assume,” he said in a disapproving tone.

 

“For the last time, Sasori, I am not turning myself into a puppet.”

 

“But you’d make such a _nice_ —”

 

“No.” Orochimaru wanted a physical body to experience his immortality with, thank you very much.

 

Sasori sighed, sitting back down at the workbench and picking up the screwdriver again. He hadn’t been working very long before he was distracted by smothered coughing from a shadowed corner. “Be _quiet_ , can’t you, stupid creature!” Sasori snapped, glaring in that direction. “Make me ruin this and I’ll try it on you next,” he muttered as he again started working on whatever his latest project was.

 

Orochimaru frowned, setting the scroll aside and walking over to get a better look at who else was in the room with them. “What’s this?” he asked, looking down at the small, dark-haired child kneeling next to the table.

 

Sasori shrugged. “Nothing much. I found it a while back.” This was not very informative; Sasori had been very vague with time ever since joining Akatsuki, probably because he no longer aged, and ‘a while back’ could be anything from a few days to several years. “Oh, here, look,” Sasori added, reaching down to lift the child’s chin up so Orochimaru could see his eyes.

 

Very few things surprised Orochimaru anymore, but he certainly hadn’t expected what he saw now. “The Mangekyou—how did you ever get him away from the clan?” The Uchiha were notoriously protective of their bloodline, and he had heard rumours that they would rather kill one of their own than risk having the Sharingan fall into the wrong hands.

 

“I didn’t, they got rid of it,” Sasori replied calmly. “It’s not really much use, but it’s not big enough yet to make into a puppet, either.”

 

The child did not react at all to this statement as Sasori let go of him, even though Orochimaru was certain he had understood what was said. His curiosity slightly satisfied, Orochimaru went back to the chair he had been sitting in, although he kept being distracted from his reading by the child’s occasional smothered coughs and sniffles.

 

Orochimaru was not the only one distracted, as Sasori continued glaring in the general direction of the corner whenever the child made a noise. Finally, the puppeteer set his tools down in frustration. Shoving his chair back, he stood and grabbed the child ungently by the arm, and Orochimaru watched in mild interest as Sasori dragged the boy out of the main cave—disregarding the child’s difficulty in keeping up with his longer strides—and into the tunnel.

 

It was a few minutes before Sasori returned and set back to work on his project with a sigh of relief. “Finally I can get some work done in peace,” he muttered to himself. “Wretched brat, it would have to get sick when I’m working on something important.”

 

Orochimaru frowned a little at that. Contrary to popular opinion, he did understand something of children’s needs, and he felt fairly sure that Sasori did as well. Tossing a sick child out in the snow was hardly any method of keeping it in good condition.

 

He waited several minutes to see if Sasori would permit the child to return inside, but Sasori seemed to have forgotten about it entirely and was now engrossed in his project. Of course the child was Sasori’s possession, but the puppet master’s flagrant carelessness with something so valuable rankled Orochimaru.

 

After another few minutes, he set the scroll aside and headed for the tunnel himself. Sasori didn’t even seem to notice his departure.

 

Orochimaru paused at the end of the tunnel, a bit annoyed that he had to go out in the snow again for such a pathetic little thing. The child had curled up in the lee of a large rock, which kept him from the worst of the snow but must have done nothing for the cold. His eyes were closed tightly and he was shivering, his skin almost pale enough to match the snow.

 

If it weren’t for the thought of the Mangekyou Sharingan, Orochimaru would have gone back inside.

 

As Orochimaru approached, the child huddled a little closer to the rock, but did not raise his eyes past the level of Orochimaru’s boots. Sasori had trained his chattel well. Orochimaru received further proof of this when he knelt down and reached out to touch the child, who immediately shrank away from his hand.

 

Orochimaru smiled to himself. While Sasori’s methods had obviously gotten him efficient results with little effort, there was a reason Orochimaru’s people followed him out of loyalty. A little kindness could go a long way, especially where there had been none before...

 

Unclasping his cloak, Orochimaru wrapped it around the child—ignoring his startled gasp—and picked him up, frowning a little at how light he was even wrapped in the heavy wool fabric. Even with the Mangekyou Sharingan, this child would be little good unless he was in better condition by the time Orochimaru had a use for him.

 

“What _are_ you doing?” Sasori demanded as Orochimaru re-entered the cave.

 

“Protecting your investment,” Orochimaru replied, not bothering to mention that he was also making a little investment of his own. “Children can die of cold, you know,” he added, sitting down with the child and beginning to rub his hands carefully.

 

“Can they now,” Sasori said. He sounded disinterested, but Orochimaru was fairly sure that now that this had been made more clear he would be more careful. “Well, do what you like. It’s your own time you’re wasting.”

 

“It’s not a waste at all,” Orochimaru said, but quietly enough that Sasori didn’t hear.

 

It was a little hard to judge what the child was thinking, since he made every effort to keep Orochimaru from seeing his eyes. However, by the time he left Sasori’s workshop, he had a feeling that the boy practically worshipped the ground he walked on.

 

And that suited Orochimaru perfectly.

 

 


End file.
